The New Guy
by Theano
Summary: The slipspace bomb over Reach has some surprising effects.  Noble Five becomes part of Jane Shepard's team.
1. Reach

**Title:** The New Guy  
><strong>Author:<strong> Theano  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T  
><strong>Summary:<strong> The slipspace bomb over Reach has some surprising effects. Noble Five becomes part of Jane Shepard's team.  
>Disclaimer: Bungie and 343 Industries own the Halo franchise; BioWare owns Mass Effect. One day soon, they will rule the world, and I will be their willing slave. (Wait a minute, I already am...)<p>

**TECHNOPHILES BE WARNED:** I play fast and loose with Halo/Spartan technology here. _This is deliberate and part of the plot._

In the Mass Effect universe, _physics are different._ Not so different that humans can't exist - but please note that in ME1, Kaidan mentions the fact that Alliance FTL research was a dead end. A slipspace drive would not work in the Mass Effect universe; therefore, neither would much of the technology that turns a kid into a Spartan. However, I can only ruin so much of Jorge's tech without killing him, and I'm obviously not willing to do that.

If you can't live with a story that changes Spartan technology (in a different universe, no less!), then this isn't the story for you.

* * *

><p><strong>I. Reach<strong>

He watched her fall, but it felt like himself falling, tumbling in the void with nothing to hang onto.

He closed his eyes for a moment. It wouldn't be long now.

Jorge-052 secured his helmet over his head; it wouldn't provide any protection on this one-way trip, but he was going out as a Spartan. The indicator light on the detonator flashed, reminding him insistently that he had a job to finish.

He keyed in the sequence and uttered a prayer he didn't remember learning.

* * *

><p>"Joker! What just happened?"<p>

"Taking damage! Something just - appeared! - off to port, about two hundred kilometers, Commander. Lots of radiation, our shields just blew!"

Shepard raced into the bridge, catching herself on the pilot's seat. "Tell me something I can actually use, Joker!"

"Working on it - crap!"

Another jolt hit the ship, almost knocking the commander to the floor. "EDI! What the hell's going on?"

The AI's display popped up, its clamshell mouth moving in time with the metallic voice. "Unknown radiation source. Unknown energy signature. Commander, I suggest moving away from the object to avoid more damage."

"No, ya think?" Joker snapped. "If you've got any more suggestions, Captain Obvious..." Joker's fingers flew across the glowing control panels, triggering holographic keys in a quick sequence.

"I hold no Systems Alliance rank, Mr. Moreau," EDI replied.

"Can you get the _Normandy_ back under control?" Shepard asked.

"Repairs will take some time, Commander - " EDI started to say.

"Done!" Joker crowed, and waved a fist at the AI's holo display. "That's called human ingenuity, tin man - uh, woman - uh, whatever..."

The deck rumbled smoothly as the _Normandy_ moved out of range of the strange object. Joker maneuvered her expertly, then pulled up the forward view. Whatever it was, it had sustained a lot more damage than them. It was big, at least as large as the _Destiny Ascension_.

"What do you think it is?" Shepard asked. No one replied.

The object might have been part of a ship, once upon a time, something with smooth lines and a predatory aura. Now, though, it looked like some unimaginable giant had taken a bite from one end, leaving a ruined mangle of struts and cables and flashes of energy.

There was a final pulse of that unknown radiation, and the object went completely dark, tumbling with exquisite slowness in the black.

"Hold station here," Shepard ordered. She turned to find Miranda and Garrus both behind her, staring at the object in the forward screens.

"Garrus - diagnostic on our shields. Miranda - contact the Illusive Man. I want to know if he knows anything about that thing out there. Both of you, meet me at the shuttle twenty minutes from now, and bring the doctor."

* * *

><p>He hadn't thought being dead would hurt so much.<p>

Jorge groaned and cursed, slowly picking himself up. He leaned against the Pelican, shaking his head to clear it.

His armor was pinging audibly, a shrill complaint that drove icepicks through his temples. The heads up display blinked a few times, then disappeared, along with the blasted alarm. Jorge straightened up, staggered away from the ruin of the dropship, and looked around.

"_Isten draga_," he swore.

The Pelican was half the ship it had been; where the starboard half had been was a void. Even the burned out slipspace drive had been bisected. Jorge backed away from the dropship, and the empty edge where half of the Covenant corvette had simply ceased to exist. He wondered if the same thing had happened to the supercarrier he'd docked at before triggering the slipspace bomb, if the shell of that enormous ship still contained this one.

He sat on the burned-out husk of a plasma battery, and looked at his hands. The gauntlet armor was blackened, with a few strips of paint remaining. Joint servos whined and coughed as he moved, and he realized his stiffness wasn't only due to injuries. His MJOLNIR armor had taken a hell of a beating.

But he couldn't remove it - this scrap heap of bloody armor was his only protection from sucking vacuum. Or it would be for another - he checked his air supply display, but it had gone as dead as his HUD.

No air out there. An unknown - but limited - supply of air in his armor. Jorge shrugged. He'd faced worse missions before.

Step one: Get off this Covvie rattletrap and into something with atmosphere. Step two: Find out where in the universe he was. Step three -

He spotted movement outside, a strange-looking shuttle or transport of a class he'd never seen before, on an approach trajectory for the gaping hole in the bay. Not UNSC. Maybe not even human.

Step three: Kill anything that got in his way.


	2. Solace

**II. Solace**

As the Kodiak shuttle maneuvered around the broken edges of the massive ship, Shepard found herself holding her breath. This thing was even bigger than she'd thought - not just rivaling the Council's home ship, but completely dwarfing even _Sovereign_ itself.

"There!" Garrus pointed at something gleaming below the enormous wound in the alien vessel. "Looks like a smaller ship, maybe a corvette or a frigate equivalent. Are those docking clamps?"

"As good a guess as any," Miranda replied. "This ship - it's nothing like the Collector ship at all."

"Not Collector technology," Mordin put in. "Smooth lines, aesthetic, quite graceful and lovely. Collectors - no more soul than termites."

Garrus looked over at the salarian. "Didn't know you were a poet, Doc."

"Have studied many areas, not just medicine. Healing is an art!"

"Bring us up alongside the smaller ship," Shepard said into her link. The Kodiak pilot obediently circled around the sleek curves, hugging the vessel until the jagged rim came back into view. "Looks secure enough for now. Ready to go aboard?"

Her team nodded. Shepard gave a final order, and the shuttle came to a stop bare inches above the alien deck. As soon as they had climbed out, their transport moved off again to a theoretically safe distance.

Somehow there was still gravity. The first _Normandy_ had been a cutting-edge prototype, a melding of human and turian technology more advanced than almost everything but asari vessels. But when the Collectors had hit it, only magnetized plating in her boots had allowed Shepard to walk around inside.

There was lighting, too, a soft glow that came from decoratively luminescent panels, reflected by deck and bulkhead material. Everything shone in pearlescent shades of lavender and violet, except for the mangled hulk of a dark grey machine at the other end of the maw.

"A ship docked in a ship docked in another ship?" Garrus said. "This one doesn't look the same, though. Looks almost..."

"Human," Shepard finished. "Yeah, except I've never seen its make."

"Commander, Dr. Solus - you might want to have a look at this." Miranda stood over a crumpled form a few feet away. Shepard looked around again. Bodies. There were dead bodies everywhere past the smallest ship, some mangled by what could have been old-fashioned bullets, others showing energy burns. A few were human, but most were unfamiliar species.

"I have a very bad feeling about this," she whispered.

Something moved in the dim distance, and the team snapped into action, readying weapons and finding what cover they could. The deck vibrated beneath her feet as a huge metallic something came into view. The shape stopped, studied them.

"Mech!" Shepard called. "Take it down!"

"No, wait!" said Garrus. "I don't think - "

A massive chaingun rested on one shoulder, but as it caught sight of Garrus and Mordin, it brought the weapon to bear and opened fire.

"Garrus!"

"Solus, just incinerate the bloody thing!"

The rapid firing chuddered to a halt.

Shepard took aim with her sniper rifle, fired. Nothing happened. She fired again, but the thing didn't seem to feel it. Even a head shot was useless against this monstrosity.

A blaze of red swam out from Mordin's omnitool and gently touched the enormous weapon, as if caressing a favorite pet. The chaingun glowed with heat, melting, and the huge figure dropped it.

It shook its hands, as if a mech could feel pain, and dodged a second of Mordin's blasts.

"Cease fire!" Shepard yelled, and stood up.

"Commander, no, don't - " Miranda tried to to grab her, but Shepard was already walking out, hands spread, her rifle left behind.

* * *

><p>Jorge cursed in both English and Hungarian, his hands burning. His suit's systems were fried, but even if he could somehow pry the gauntlets off, the vacuum would hurt a lot worse than some blistered skin. And his weapon had jammed, which shouldn't have happened; he kept it in perfect repair.<p>

Whatever those floating fireballs were, he'd never seen the Covenant using them before. They didn't come up with new technologies.

One of the figures stood up, raising its hands in a peaceful gesture. But the initial meeting with the Covenant had been peaceful, until the aliens had attacked their hosts on Harvest.

This, though - he looked carefully. Possibly human, possibly female. Its armor hid almost as much as his own did, though he could see features behind the faceplate as it approached. Almost definitely human. Lips moved, eyes questioned. Jorge shook his head, pointed at the burned out radio receiver on the side of his helmet. Whatever this person was asking, he wouldn't be able to answer till he got somewhere with an atmosphere.

It was getting cold in here. The gel layer was losing its cohesion; soon the most advanced armor system the UNSC had ever produced would be nothing more than an oddly shaped icebox.

* * *

><p>The enormous suit of armor pointed at what might be the side of its head-if it had a head under there-and Shepard nodded. She held one hand out - <em>Please God don't move <em>- palm facing the monstrosity, and motioned to her team with the other. "Come on out, guys. I think it's safe."

Garrus was the first to stand up, followed by Mordin. The armored figure visibly tensed, its fingers closing into fists. "No!" she said, shaking her head at the thing. "These are friends!" She hoped it would somehow understand what she was trying to convey. The giant seemed to relax, clasping its hands behind its back, at ease.

_Military?_ she wondered. The opaque faceplate gave a cursory glance towards Miranda, but followed Garrus and Mordin's movements with obvious antipathy.

"Ready for pickup," Miranda was saying into her link. "Hope there's enough room in there..."

"Mordin, what the hell are you doing?"

"Samples, Commander. There are several examples of alien species completely unknown to science here!"

"You bring some weird disease unknown to science onto my ship, and I'll let Hercules here do what he so obviously wants to!"

"Ah. Yes. Well. Feel free to leave me here for now, Commander. Unknown diseases - one of my hobbies!"

Shepard shook her head in disgust and turned back to the giant. It hadn't moved, but was looking at her, its head canted slightly to one side. As the Kodiak moved in to pick them up, Shepard risked touching the giant's arm, pointing to the shuttle and giving a gentle push in its direction. The armor nodded, then walked over to the shuttle, each step making the deck vibrate.

It looked inside, looked back at Shepard. She smiled and nodded back. Ducking, then bending low, the giant slid itself into one of the crash couches. Shepard jumped in after it, followed by Miranda; Mordin really would have to stay behind, Shepard realized-there was barely enough room as it was.

Garrus leaned in, but Shepard warned him off, too, as the armored figure tensed, ready to attack. There wasn't enough room for either Garrus or Mordin, in more ways than one. The shuttle would come back for them.

The hatch hissed closed; the shuttle began to move. Shepard and Miranda glanced at each other, then both removed their helmets.

The giant hesitated for a moment, then did the same.


	3. The New Guy

**III. The New Guy**

If a boulder had grown human features and learned how to walk and (presumably) talk, Shepard thought it might look something like this. Their giant had short, dark hair, brows like an overhanging cliff, a bristling mustache, and massive, stubbled jaws which hinted that the teeth inside could grind cement. A scar ran from his hairline to his right cheek, below the eye. She wondered if the eye was his original, or if he'd had it replaced after the injury.

Her own scars had healed, with a little help from Dr. Chakwas, but now they itched in sympathy.

"I'm Commander Jane Shepard, Alliance Spectre. This is Miranda Lawson."

Those dark eyes studied Miranda for a moment, then came back to hers again. "Spartan Jorge-052, UNSC. May I ask our location, ma'am?"

"Epsilon Eridani, just outside Sol's local cluster," Shepard said.

Something moved behind his eyes. He looked at Miranda again. "Reach? The Covenant? Any news?"

Shepard shook her head. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"The planet Reach!" the giant snarled. "You've heard of it! The Covenant - you've heard of them, too, don't play shy. I don't know what you Innies are playing at with your Covenant buddies, but if you've breathed a word about Earth I will personally rip your guts out and - "

"Stand down!" Shepard shouted. "I don't know about any planet named Reach, or any 'Covenant,' but I can tell you that you will spend as much time in the brig as it takes for you to rethink threatening a Spectre!"

The air in the small cabin grew stuffy and close as Shepard and the giant glared at each other.

"Commander," Miranda said, and the tension broke suddenly, and Shepard discovered she could breathe again. "Commander, I may have an insight into this.

"Cerberus has investigated several anomalies scattered across the Terminus systems over the past several decades. We've found strange ships, similar to that monstrosity out there though much smaller. And we've found... bodies. Like those inside that ship. Alien, unknown to either the Alliance or Cerberus. But not a single survivor, not till now."

"And you left this out of your report about this ship, why?"

"You may be a Cerberus project, Commander, but your clearance doesn't go near high enough for this."

"Care to enlighten me?" the giant rumbled. "What's this 'Cerberus,' another ONI mess?"

"I'm sorry," Miranda said. "Could you please repeat your name?"

"Spartan Jorge-052," he repeated slowly.

Miranda's lips moved silently, as if tasting the name. "The best theories we have, Commander, Mr. Jorge - are either of you familiar with the multiple worlds aspect of string theory?"

"Yeah," Shepard said, as the giant shook his head. "Something about an infinite number of possibly interconnected universes?"

"I believe Mr. Jorge here is evidence that they are more than possibly interconnected. He comes from a reality different from our own."

The giant - Jorge - leaned back with a puzzled expression. "So. No Covenant. No war." He closed his eyes. "No Reach."

* * *

><p>Jorge slumped in the berth they'd provided for him on this tin can of a ship. The SSV Normandy, they called it. He wondered if the history associated with that name matched the history he knew.<p>

So much gone. Carter, Jun. Six. She'd never told him her name, never told any of them. He wondered if Kat knew it. Shit, he even found himself missing Emile. The odds of that.

The odds of any of this happening. String theory, for God's sake.

He was still wearing his armor, but he'd never had any trouble sleeping in it before. That scaly doctor wanted a look-see, wanted to poke his alien fingers into classified UNSC property, like some damn Covvie -

Jorge sighed and lay down. The Covenant didn't exist here. Aliens were just aliens, no mysterious fanaticism bent on human destruction. A two-legged salamander for a doctor; a former police officer that looked like a crab wearing a horse collar. He ought to just shoot them anyway, save that Shepard woman the trouble. The only good alien was a dead alien.

It had been a week since picking up their unexpected passenger. A week of frustrating silence, tension hanging thick on the Normandy, from both human and non-human crew.

* * *

><p>"Just talk to him, Chambers. That's all I'm asking for."<p>

"And respectfully, Commander, I've already tried. Whoever he is, wherever he comes from, our giant isn't willing to say anything more than he already told you and Ms. Lawson. The man's a closed door. No entry. Trespassers will be shot, stabbed, burned to a crisp, put through a woodchipper, and fed to the dogs."

"Have you tried - "

"Yes."

"What about - "

"That, too. I have smiled, flirted, joked, pandered, contrived to be seen coming out of the showers half-naked. I have even cried. Cried, Commander! No human male can resist Kelly Chambers crying!"

"And?"

"And what? He looks at me with those black holes he uses for eyes, mutters something polite, and disappears. Thank God he disappears - that man scares me!"

It was the same with the rest of the crew. Jack hated him on sight (but she hated everyone on sight); Chakwas chided her for pressing someone with such obvious emotional wounds; Gardner complained about how much he ate; and neither Garrus nor Mordin would go anywhere near him.

"It's not that I don't trust him, Commander, but I'd sooner mud wrestle a Reaper," Garrus said.

"Not enough firepower, Shepard," Mordin said, and ignored her further requests. He was still wrapped up in studying the "samples" he'd brought back from the strange ship.

Two days after they brought their giant aboard, a team of Cerberus scientists, agents, and soldiers had appeared to take over the investigation of the mysterious vessel. Probably it would take them weeks just to search the enormous ship for anything else that might have survived.

The last time the giant had spoken to Shepard, it was to volunteer to lead the Cerberus team. He wanted to make sure he really was the only survivor.

Shepard could only imagine what Cerberus might do to a man from an alternate universe, if they ever got close to him. She refused his request, and for good measure ordered him to stay clear of both Miranda and Jacob.

The Illusive Man had demanded information about Jorge immediately. Shepard had sent him a two-word reply, and had not heard back from him since.

She knocked quietly at the starboard observation hatch.

The hatch slid open. "Commander?"

Somewhere he'd gotten a t-shirt bearing an Alliance Fleet logo (with sleeves about to pop their seams), and a pair of jeans that might have previously been worn by a krogan. He looked - large.

"Mind if I come in?" she asked his chest.

Jorge stepped aside for her. His quarters were full of tools, technical manuals, scraps of oily cloth, and pieces of his armor in various states of repair. A display table flickered with EDI's holographic presence.

"Status report, EDI. What are you doing in here?"

"I have been helping Spartan Jorge-052 with repairs to his MJOLNIR armor system, as well as providing a comprehensive overview of the history, cultures, species, and religions of Earth and Citadel space. Also, I have been compiling a report on Spartan Jorge-052 for Cerberus, on the orders of Miranda Lawson."

Jorge looked sharply at EDI, then shrugged. "Cerberus sounds like a decent enough group. Working for the survival of humanity, eh? Not that much different from home."

"Really?" Shepard asked, resisting the urge to cross her arms. "Did EDI also talk about all the illegal experimentation? Or about why AIs are normally outlawed? Did she say anything at all regarding the threat to the galaxy as a whole - not just to humans, but all of galactic civilization - from a race of intelligent machines?"

"Comprehensive overview, like the lady said. I've worked with AIs before, and EDI seems like a good one. Reminds me of a teacher I once knew."

Shepard stared at the big man, bemused. "You've got everything turned on its ear. You don't trust non-humans, but you'll let an AI spy on you for a shadow organization that - my God, Jorge, if Cerberus ever got their hands on you..."

"I know," he sighed, nodding at EDI. "She told me about what happened to you." The lines at the corners of his eyes deepened. "You could almost be a Spartan yourself, Commander."

Shepard pinched the bridge of her nose. This wasn't going the way she'd expected. "When you're finished compiling your... report, EDI, send me a copy. _Unedited_. Jorge, how long till this armor is up and running again?"

"Two days, maybe three, Commander."

"We're on our way to Haestrom, to pick up a new team member. She's not human, but she's a friend. I'll vouch for her, if that makes you feel any better. I want you-and this armor-ready by then. You'll be coming with me to recruit Tali."

Jorge scowled, but nodded. "Yes, Commander."

"EDI, if you haven't done so already, give Jorge something more in-depth than just an overview of quarian history. Including the geth."

"Acknowledged."

She turned to leave, but stopped before the hatch closed. "And Jorge?"

"Ma'am?"

"You _will_ join the crew for meals in the mess hall. You will make every possible effort to act in a polite manner to _every_ crewmember, especially the aliens. And see Dr. Chakwas for an exam-she's been worried about you since you came aboard."

He nodded at her, his black eyes revealing nothing. The hatch closed.


	4. Where's There's Life

**A/N:** Thanks for all the wonderful comments! You guys are awesome. Sorry about the short chapters; I seem to be constitutionally incapable of writing long ones...

A clarification: This is an AU, obviously, of both Mass Effect 2 and Halo: Reach. Some things are different in both universes from canon. In this Halo universe, the slipspace bomb that transports Jorge takes _half_ the ship with him (rather than only the middle section as in canon); there's a reason for this. Also, at the point where Jorge comes into the ME2 story, while only Garrus and Mordin are around, Horizon and the "defunct" Collector ship mission have already passed. I'm fudging things, I know.

I hope you continue to enjoy my little story.

* * *

><p><strong>IV. Where There's Life<strong>

Shepard flipped another page of EDI's report. She'd printed out a hard copy, just in case Miranda decided to "lose" EDI's work.

Damn, EDI had gotten a lot out of him.

UNSC. Not much different from the Alliance Fleet she knew. This Office of Naval Intelligence, though - ONI. The Spartan program. Catherine Halsey. No wonder Jorge was so comfortable with Cerberus-he'd been raised by its spiritual cousin.

She stirred her coffee again. The spoon clinked, reminding her that she'd drained the cup hours ago. She flipped another page.

Humanity in Jorge's universe had been on the very brink of extinction, months away - if even that long - from the alien Covenant discovering the location of Earth and glassing its entire surface.

If something like that happened here, she thought, then shook herself. Something like that _was_ happening here. Her species, all of Citadel space, whatever civilizations lay undocumented beyond dormant mass relays - everything and everyone would die.

Maybe Cerberus had a point.

Maybe the Spartan program had been necessary, for all that it had been started well before the alternate humanity had made contact with the Covenant. Maybe the threat of death on such a large scale did justify any excesses.

Shepard rubbed her eyes, remembering Kaidan's angry accusations on Horizon, her own equally angry defenses and hollow explanations. She wondered what Kaidan would have said about their giant.

_Our giant._ She didn't know when she had started thinking of Jorge that way, but it had slipped out in conversation with Chambers one day, and now the entire ship was calling Jorge that.

She yawned and stretched, got up to use the head. As she washed her hands, her eyes traced the barely visible lines that had once been livid, angry scars. Splashing her face to wake herself up, Shepard watched the water turn pink with blood.

The mirror was cracked and bleeding, little winking lights showing in the wounds where the Cerberus doctors and technicians had impaled her over and over again, until there was nothing left. She scratched at her skin, peeling it away, revealing the wires and tubes beneath.

She looked just like the Saren - thing, all her humanity replaced with a Cerberus husk.

* * *

><p>She reminded him of Dr. Halsey.<p>

Dr. Chakwas looked about the same age, kept her greying hair in a similar style, and was nothing like the icy tiger Jorge had grown up loving and fearing. Maybe this was what Dr. Halsey would have been, if there'd been no Insurrection, no Covenant, no need for Spartans like Jorge.

No. Halsey would have found a reason. Chakwas was no Halsey, but she reminded him of her all the same.

She took his vitals, murmuring notes to herself, then asked him to lay back beneath the scanner.

His feet hung off the end of the bed, but she didn't comment. After an eternity of the machine humming and buzzing around him, it finally stopped.

Dr. Chakwas sat at her terminal, her face in her hands.

"Doctor? Are you - ?"

"I'm fine, Jorge." She looked up, gave him a watery smile. "Do you have any idea how extraordinary you are?"

"Ma'am?"

The terminal screen showed two skeletal images. One was large, with nodes at the implant points; his own scan. The other showed bones riddled with fractures and painful-looking spurs.

"How would you like to help me save a life, Jorge?"

"Ma'am - it's what I'm made for, ma'am."

* * *

><p>Shepard was drunk.<p>

Somehow she found herself in the engineering sublevel, pacing back and forth, out of her mind with fury.

"The things those bastards did to him, Jack! He was six years old, and they took him away, and turned him into - "

"Into what?" Jack snapped. "A freak like me? That's what you really want to say, isn't it?"

"How many times do I have to tell you, you're not a freak! He's not a freak! The people who did these things - those are the real freaks. God, if I could just get my hands on those fucking Mengeles!"

Jack looked at her. "Which ones? ONI, or Cerberus?"

"Doesn't matter," Shepard sighed. "They're all the same."

"Will you do something for me, Shepard?" Jack crooned as she stalked forward. "Something for him?" She traced the line of a tear on Shepard's cheek, but Shepard slapped her hand away.

Jack licked her finger.

"What do you need?" Shepard asked.

"I need information. I need access to the cheerleader's files. You promised me, Jane."

"All right. Consider it done."

He called her 'ma'am,' or perhaps 'Mum' - with his accent, Dr. Chakwas couldn't tell the difference; and with his manner, she wasn't sure there was one. The boy had a sweet nature, for all his monstrous size, and though his face was a blank slate, Chakwas was sure she'd seen something good in him.

"How long would it take?" Joker asked. Chakwas blinked. Jorge had left half an hour ago, but she couldn't stop thinking about him. Extraordinary, she'd called him, because she had no other words.

"A week, best case," she told him. "Worst case - Jeff, you need to understand that this isn't some outpatient procedure. We should be doing this at a hospital, not on the _Normandy_."

"I'm not leaving the ship," Joker insisted. "If it takes, great. If not..."

"If not, it could kill you."

"Yeah, but at least I'd be with my baby. And I could haunt Garrus - that'd almost be worth it!"

There was something good in all her patients. That was why she'd become a doctor in the first place.

He sighed and struggled to his feet. "I don't know if I even want to do this. It sounds so... science fiction."


	5. Haestrom

**A/N:** Deja is the AI that Jorge compared EDI to in the previous chapter. Although I don't think Deja had a hand in designing the MJOLNIR armor system, I'm fudging things slightly again. Also: yes, I know my action writing sucks. I don't do it very much.

* * *

><p><strong>V. Haestrom<strong>

It was dangerously hot on the surface of this planet. With EDI's expert help, Jorge had gotten his armor in as good condition as it might ever see again. She may have been smart for an AI in this universe, but EDI was no Deja. His MJOLNIR was functional, but it would never again be a second skin.

EDI had said something about differing physics, but by then Jorge had barely been listening. He'd finally fallen asleep, half-dressed, boots and gauntlets and body plating strewn across the floor, gleaming with promise and regret.

Today would be different. Today he was fighting to save the life of an alien. He still didn't know how he felt about that.

Vakarian - the turian - was all right, Jorge had finally decided. He may have been a lone wolf, but he understood about duty, about doing whatever it took. And he'd fought a long, losing war against criminal gangs not unlike some of the Insurrectionists Jorge had seen. Local rule was all right for the outer systems, in theory, but mostly the guys in charge were no better than upjumped pirates.

Not much difference here. He'd had a long chat with the turian one evening after dinner. Omega sounded a lot like a hundred different asteroid bases he and other Spartans had cleaned out.

Trying to stay in formation with Shepard and Vakarian, Jorge panted inside his helmet. The gel layer was barely keeping ahead of the temperature.

"Stay close, Jorge," Shepard warned.

"Can't, ma'am," he admitted. "Armor's working as best it can, but it's too bloody hot here."

"All right, we take this slow. Jorge, you're on point, set our pace. Garrus, rear cover. We walk, save our energy for sprinting in the open."

Outside of the shade on this hellish planet, radiation from the sun took down shields faster than Covenant plasma fire. His own shields were worse off than Shepard's and the turian's to begin with; they still weren't working as they were designed to. Maybe they never would again.

There was a foul taste at the back of Jorge's throat. Nothing was going to go right on this mission, he knew it. He wondered how many would be coming home. He thought about Six again, freefalling toward the surface of Reach. He wondered if she was still alive.

Taylor had produced a modified assault rifle for their new heavy weapons specialist, but Jorge preferred the grenade launcher. He carried Taylor's invention as backup, slung at his hip like a pistol.

The first geth they met were easy. Jorge was a believer in overkill, but he didn't want to waste any of his heavy ammunition, and the booming rifle was accurate enough, and deadly. Shepard was carrying a battle rifle similar to what Six had favored, but the turian preferred to stay well back with a powerful sniper package that Jun would have envied.

"Those are geth, eh?" he asked.

"Those are just the cannon fodder," Shepard warned. "We'll be seeing their elite units soon enough."

"Aye, Commander. I know what to do with Elites."

* * *

><p>Fighting their way through the geth encampment, Shepard decided she had chosen the right team. Garrus was as sharp as ever, rapping out one-shot kills with familiar ease. But Garrus was part of her old crew, and killing geth was second nature for him.<p>

Their giant could stand up to a geth Prime, and survive. The Prime had charged Shepard when she had stopped to reload; in an instant it was too close for Jorge to use the grenade launcher without taking her out, too. Instead, he'd barreled between them, sacrificing his weak shields to the geth's rapid fire.

She had just enough time to roll out of the way and watch Jorge's gauntlet hand crush the Prime's neck. It wasn't an organic enemy, though, and it kept struggling till the Spartan ripped its central operating systems out from behind its breastplate.

Another wave of smaller targets appeared, and Shepard was back in the fight.

* * *

><p>For the first time since he'd come to this upside-down reality, Jorge was having fun. He missed his heavy chain gun, but Taylor's first crack at a replacement wasn't half bad.<p>

So far, these little geth robots were easy. He was no longer seriously worried about his weak shields; the armor itself was standing up to enemy fire, though he still suffered from the heat.

And now there was this fallen pillar blocking the way into the ancient quarian complex. Shepard wanted to scrounge any explosives they could find, or even radio Joker for an equipment drop.

"Don't bother, Commander." Jorge rubbed his hands together, looking forward to this challenge. He circled the front of the enormous obstacle, looked at the sides, and found his starting point. It wasn't enough room for even a baby to crawl through, but he could pry his fingers in, set his shoulders, and...

In a few moments, it was done. Jorge sat on a chunk of rubble, gasping for breath. The temperature alarms in his armor were pinging angrily, and he couldn't seem to get any oxygen.

"You goddamn stupid son of a - come on, Garrus, we need to get him inside!" Shepard hacked the door, which slid open obediently. "Get his helmet off. He needs air."

"Trying, Commander," he heard Vakarian complain. He felt something tugging at his head; reaching up, he fumbled at the collar lock till it released with a hiss.

Air. Blessed, cool air, sweet as clean water.

"What the hell was that, Jorge?" the commander demanded.

"Sorry, ma'am. Quicker than trying to find demolitions. Didn't know this would happen."

"Screw finding demolitions, where are we going to find another of you?"

She was really concerned, he realized fuzzily. She was quite intimidating in her own armor, taller than him - barely - when he was sitting down. She was a lot like Six, he thought. But so angry.

He reached up with two fingers, drawing a Spartan smile on the faceplate of her helmet. "Cheer up," he said. "It's just the universe next door."


	6. MJOLNIR

**VI. MJOLNIR**

"What were you thinking, Commander, bringing someone like that along to Haestrom?"

Tali was angrier than Shepard had ever seen her-even angrier than when the little quarian had discovered her reincarnated friend working for Cerberus.

"I was thinking we were going to need his strength and combat experience," she snapped back, "and I was right. Your friend Reegar wouldn't even be alive if Jorge hadn't stayed back with him!"

She'd questioned that decision almost immediately, worrying about leaving an injured quarian under the guard of a proven xenophobe like their giant. But either Jorge had been worse off than any of them realized, or he was coming to terms with the idea of non-human allies. It was a shame he still seemed so comfortable with Cerberus.

"Keelah! He doesn't even have an omnitool! Those so-called shields wouldn't block a sneeze!"

"Well, I guess you've got your work cut out for you."

"What? My work is the Normandy's engines!"

"I've got two genius engineers down there who've already increased the engines' efficiency by - whatever percentage, but it made them happy. You, however, are our resident miracle worker, and what you've forgotten about armor systems could finance this entire mission."

"You want me to work on that piece of crap?"

"It's not a piece of crap. Neither is the person who wears it."

"No? Your giant openly admires Cerberus, Shepard. Garrus told me about how he hates 'aliens.' And here you are, telling me to help this paragon?"

"He saved Reegar's life," she pointed out again. "And probably yours, too."

Tali sighed. "If I upgrade his armor, will you let me back on the engines?"

"When you get a good look at that armor system, you'll wonder why you ever bothered with engines in the first place."

Radiating confusion and disbelief, Tali finally acquiesced.

Two hours later, Shepard walked past Jorge's berth. He was standing completely still, expressionless, as the quarian ran her omnitool along every inch of the black underlayer of his armor.

After that, whenever Shepard ran into the Spartan, Tali was sure to be only inches away, chatting happily as she fiddled with his newly installed omnitool system, rewired his helmet, repaired a shocked joint casing, or a hundred other problems she had found or simply invented.

The quarian was in love. Not with Jorge - though he seemed more at ease with her than any of the other crew except Shepard - but with his armor.

"Tali, when are you going to work on the engines?" Shepard asked sweetly.

"What engines?" Tali replied with a laugh.

Jorge looked up at Shepard. "Help, I've been kidnapped by a mad mechanic," he said with one of his too-rare smiles.

* * *

><p>Jorge finally saw Chakwas again, when the quarian's modifications to his armor hadn't stopped his skin from burning, or stopped him from feeling like his insides were melting away. He was sweating almost constantly now, but everyone's stress levels were high, and no one else noticed.<p>

"How long have you been experiencing the symptoms?"

"Since Haestrom, ma'am. I thought it was the planet's heat, but it hasn't gone away. I'm still burning up."

"Hm. No fever." She looked at his eyes, pulling the lower lids down, then asked him to open his mouth. "Throat's not sore?"

"A little, but - not the throat. Here, the neck."

She probed where he showed her, frowning. "Any joint pain? Muscle weakness? Have you been excessively angry or sad?"

"No. No. Er... Pardon, ma'am, but I lost my whole team. They were..."

"Family? Yes, understandable. Any difficulty sleeping, or getting out of bed in the morning? No?" She touched his throat again and sighed. "I'm afraid some of your implants may be slightly off. Not surprising - they may have been damaged in the transition from your world to ours. I can try to adjust them, or replace them entirely, but with your altered neural chemistry, I may do more harm than good before I can study them further. Do you feel that your performance is being hampered by the side effects?"

"Other than suffocating all the time, ma'am?"

"Why don't we try something to adjust your perceived body temperature first, then go from there? Any other symptoms?"

"I - " He stopped suddenly, watching the Commander walk past the medical bay window and step into the lift.

Chakwas followed his gaze, and smiled. "I see. Don't worry, Jorge, that's a perfectly normal side effect."

* * *

><p>"You wanted to see me?" Shepard asked.<p>

"If I _wanted_ to see you, I'd be walking the deck like every other asshole on this ship. But I needed to see you, because I found something. Your Cerberus cheerleader is up to her pretty eyelashes in shit."

Jack tossed the datapad to Shepard. At the top: the first routing address that would take this information to the Illusive Man, through a dozen or more Cerberus data hubs. She scrolled down. Armor specs - the old stuff, and Tali's improvements. Biometrics. Implants and augmentations? This part could only have come from Dr. Chakwas' medical files. Notes on the procedure Chakwas was considering for Joker.

"What is all this? Why would Cerberus want - oh. Shit. They're going to try to make more of him, aren't they?"

"This is bad, Shepard. And your jackboot giant would go right along with it."

"We still have a mission, Jack. We have a team to finish building, and we have to stop the Collectors!"

"While Cerberus kidnaps more kids? Tortures them? Kills them for its sick experiments? Fuck, it's okay, though, as long as we save the world from the bug-eyed aliens!"

"Jack - "

"Get out!"

* * *

><p>The hatch alarm chimed. Miranda keyed it open from her desk terminal. Probably Shepard again, asking for more information about what had been done to her.<p>

Not even God had a high enough clearance for that.

The big man entered instead, startling her. He was wearing his full armor, minus the helmet, which he carried under one arm.

"What's the occasion?"

"Planet called Ilium. Two more passengers to recruit."

"And Shepard wanted me to tag along?"

"No."

"Then what, may I ask, are you doing here?"

He studied her for a moment. She was suddenly aware of how much larger he was than her. Her fingers tingled, gathering a biotic field.

"The doctor's files. Stay out of them."

"This is a Cerberus vessel. I am a Cerberus agent. I have certain duties to my superiors - I'm sure a soldier like you can understand that. And I'd like to know where you got the idea that - "

He tapped his temple with a finger. "Got it the old-fashioned way, by thinking. I figure spooks are all the same, no matter the universe. What could the spook on this ship get out of which people?"

"Fine. You've caught me. Have you run to tell mummy yet?"

"Nah. I don't worry about the Commander."

"Then what are you worried about? Why are you standing in my office, threatening me?"

"No threat, ma'am. But - " he turned his helmet over in his hands, then put it on. The mirrored faceplate stared at her. "Why bother saving the world from aliens, if people like you decide to take it over?"

"You make a lousy idealist, Spartan. And we'll 'take it over,' because there is no one else."

"There's always Shepard."

"Get out of my office. I'm sure you have things to shoot."

"Ma'am."


	7. Pragia

**VII. Pragia**

Two more mysteries, Shepard thought as the Justicar and the assassin transferred their scant belongings aboard. It was becoming clear that some of her recruits had joined up as much to escape uncomfortable pasts as to fight the Reapers.

Jacob had gotten news that his father, MIA for a decade, had been found. Apparently it wasn't pretty. Miranda had taken leave on Ilium to take care of some of her own family business, though she'd refused to give Shepard details.

Joker... was being Joker as hard as he could. EDI had woken Shepard one rare dreamless night asking for human advice on Mr. Moreau's erratic behavior. (Shepard threw a pillow at the holo display, and the AI disappeared.)

Even Tali was becoming sullen, though when Shepard forwarded a message from Kal'Reegar, the girl beamed for days.

Only Mordin and Jack were behaving normally - Mordin because he thought he might have found a biological agent in his Covenant samples to use against the Collectors; and Jack because reclusive hatred was her default existence. She hadn't been out of engineering at all for the last week.

Shepard stopped by the mess hall. Garrus and Thane were deep in conversation, something about C-Sec and the security of the Citadel. Trouble brewing here already.

In engineering, she glimpsed Ken and Gabby exchanging a kiss; she ought to find separate duties for them, but they worked too well as a team. And this wasn't an Alliance vessel; she could afford to be more relaxed.

Jorge was waiting outside her cabin later that evening.

"Jorge? Are you okay?"

"Yes, Commander. I wanted to ask permission for a week's leave."

"To go where?"

He set his formidable jaw and looked away.

"I see. You're asking for personal time?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"You're a terrible liar, Jorge, you do know that?"

"I'm aware of it, Commander."

"Whose business trip are you really going on?"

He said nothing.

"All right. Technically, you're not in my chain of command, _if_ I even have one anymore. I appreciate you coming to me, though. Where do you plan on debarking?"

"Dakka station, ma'am. I'll take transport from there."

They were hitting the Dakka relay tomorrow. So soon, she realized, startled by that uncomfortable thought. When had she become so attached to her giant?

She nodded. He saluted, so she returned it, though her uniform was Cerberus, and he wore one of Jacob's old Alliance t-shirts. Maybe it was a hopeful sign.

He turned to leave.

"Jorge?"

"Ma'am?"

"Tell me you're coming back?"

"Of course, Commander. Saving humanity's what I was built for."

She escaped into her cabin, but found a message waiting on the terminal. It was from Jack.

* * *

><p>The painted girl wasn't quite the most exotic creature stuffed into tiny Dakka Station, but she still drew a lot of stares. Fortunately, there was no security station to get through, so Jorge hefted his duffel and followed the signs toward the shuttle bay, leaving Jack to catch up.<p>

"So, you here on business or pleasure?" she purred.

"I'm here to do a job."

"I am the job, big boy. You gonna do me?"

His eyes found the curves beneath the colors, but she was anything but attractive. "I'll take apart your Cerberus facility for you. What you do with the pieces is up to you."

"Pussy."

"Filthy station like this, I'm sure you can find a whore to your taste."

"Or maybe we could share..."

She finally shut up when they rented a beat-up system runabout for the hop to Pragia. Jorge had never paid attention to money in his previous life, but he was pleased that his new account (belonging to a George Spartin, from New Budapest) had more than enough to cover the insurance for a trip to the jungle world. He did find it interesting that the credit system here almost exactly matched that back home.

Jack didn't say anything during the flight, which left Jorge free to learn the limits of the craft. The controls were easy, human-intuitive, without much resistance other than the occasional hitch when he changed speed.

They touched down on a small platform somewhere near an inland equatorial sea. He was already wearing his MJOLNIR armor - now better than ever, thanks to little Tali - but he unzipped the leather duffel to retrieve his helmet, and his new friend.

He tossed the pistol to Jack, put on his helmet, and unpacked something that looked like a huge, elongated egg. Pressing a button on one end, he opened the casing to reveal a minigun's spinning barrel. The other end of the casing bristled with hookups he plugged into his gauntlet; fully attached, the weapon covered his arm up to the elbow.

"Taylor even painted it to match the armor," he said admiringly.

"Cute fashion statement," Jack said. "I'll be impressed when I see it in action. Let's go."

They had to cut through a tangle of woody vines to get into the building. Glass fragments littered the floor where trees had grown up to shatter windows and skylights. Hospital tiling was barely visible under a layer of silty mud.

They found a loading garage, still full of crates.

"This is where they brought us in. Orphans, or kidnapped, or even sold. No one cared where we came from." The terminal popped and crackled to life when Jack approached it; she downloaded its data to her omnitool.

Jorge thought he could still smell a hint of antiseptic in the walls. The odor reminded him of Castle Base.

Later they found what was left of a fighting pit, concrete barriers arranged in a large, rough circle in the middle of a wide lot.

"The playground," Jack said.

_Jorge climbed and rang the bell over and over again. Most of the time, he was fast enough._

"They used to pit me against other kids here," Jack continued. "Pumped me so full of drugs I couldn't wait to kill some squealing brat."

_It was night, and they'd found the Pelican. Jorge went out first._

_"C'mon, kid," the soldier said, "I'm here to take you home." But she had wolf eyes, and Jorge ran and hid. It hurt when they found him, so he decided that next time he'd be the wolf._

_He climbed and climbed, and rang the bell._

Jack found another terminal, played the short video still loaded in its memory. A frightened man was pleading for help to subdue the kids who had escaped their cells. He yelled something about "Subject Zero," and Jack, furious, smashed the tape.

_One night the soldiers had live ammo. Jorge took their weapons off their bodies, and passed them out to his teammates. His was the first team back in the morning, and they let him ring the bell as loud as he wanted. They got chocolate ice cream after dinner._

Eventually, they got to the inner complex. A small yard was fenced by walls, one covered with a crusted-over mirror.

"This - was a window, it was supposed to be a window! I banged and banged on it, screamed at the kids outside, but no one ever looked at me. None of this is right, it's not like I remember!"

_Leigh-133 had always been special. She was fast and smart and strong, and sometimes Jorge thought they would run away and get married, after they grew up. After the augmentations, she wasn't there anymore, and he couldn't remember what it felt like when she smiled at him. There was only success, the ringing of a bell, and grief, the surgical pain of waking up alone._

_He dropped Six to let gravity rescue her - "Tell them to make it count." - and said a prayer he couldn't remember learning._

They found a krogan rooting around inside Jack's old room. It smelled like rincol and vomit, but the big knife it brandished in one hand was still sharp enough. Even though Jorge knew what a krogan was now, it still looked like an oversized Grunt. The clumsy little aliens could almost seem cute or funny, until you saw them howling towards you in a swarm.

The minigun hummed and spun, and the krogan wasn't there anymore.

Jack picked up the knife, wiped a bit of krogan off, and offered it to Jorge. He shook his head. "I don't need it."

Slipping the blade through her belt, Jack said, "There's only one thing left that I want to do." She stuffed a package underneath the old bed and walked out.

He eased the shuttle off the pad, then put as much distance as fast as he could between them and the Teltin Facility. When the shockwave faded, he could hear Jack crying softly behind him.

In his mind, he was still climbing, still hoping to be the first to get to the bell.

_Reach has been good to me_, he said to Six, and watched her fall away.


	8. Reports

**A/N:** I've taken some dialogue from the ME2 game. You should know it when you see it.**  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>VIII. Reports<strong>

Anderson laid the report down on the table. "I won't insult you by asking whether this is true. I wonder, though, how sane these Cerberus 'scientists' really are."

"I saw this thing with my own two eyes," Shepard told him. "I walked in it, I saw the alien bodies."

"And you think these - appearances - were caused by, what, engine malfunctions?"

"Slispace drive. It's like having a mass relay in your pocket - except that a mass relay folds space, it doesn't rip it open."

"You're basing all this on what your Cerberus friends have decided to tell you."

"Not just Cerberus," she said, ignoring the Councilor's jibe. "Dr. Solus agrees with the conclusions."

"I thought he was a medical doctor?"

"Mordin's a lot of things. Salarians may not have long life spans, but they make up for it by accomplishing more than most humans could in their lives."

He looked at her skeptically. "All right, say I believe you. What possible use is this to us?"

"Maybe nothing. Or, maybe it's a last resort, a way out if the Reapers win."

"There is no way out if the Reapers win, Shepard."

She had no answer for that. The whole thing might be nothing more than a fool's hope, in the end.

Anderson took a sip of his water. "Tell me this man's name again?"

"Jorge. Spartan Jorge-052 was his official designation."

* * *

><p>From Dakka, they bought passage to Citadel Station, where they found the Normandy docked in the Presidium hangar.<p>

Joker told Jorge that the Commander was busy with the Council, but she'd want to see him once she was back.

"And she's pissed," he added, "so you might want to keep your armor on!"

He stripped and showered, then wrote up a report for Shepard on what they had found at Pragia, adding his own opinion on what he felt Cerberus had gained in their apparently botched project. Jack might have seemed like a failure, but he was certain that "Subject Zero" had not been the main reason for the Teltin Project's existence.

There were too many threads for him to weave together on his own, and EDI would be no help in this. He regretted his initial automatic trust in the AI, but there was nothing he could do about that now.

When he was done, he stored the scrambled data in his omnitool; he would send it to Shepard's link once she was back aboard.

Then he went to speak to Dr. Solus.

* * *

><p>The image was small and grainy, but this was the only bug the Salarian had overlooked. Miranda wasn't going to complain about the quality.<p>

"Why are you here, human?"

Jorge pulled up his omnitool. "Here. Notes, in case your plan doesn't work."

"In case what plan doesn't work?" the Salarian asked. Jorge looked at him. Solus finally nodded, keying his own omnitool to receive the data. "I will look at these momentarily. For now, I am still quite busy with dissections."

The salarian waited for the giant to leave his lab, then input instructions into his omnitool.

A moment later, Miranda's terminal beeped, letting her know it had received a data package. She scanned the message quickly.

The Illusive Man would need to be notified. Everything hinged on their work proceeding without interruption or interference; one theoretical success out of hundreds of failures was no result at all.

Miranda rubbed her eyes in exhaustion, then opened the master file on the Teltin Facility again.

Half an hour later, Miranda keyed her code into the comm hatch. There were a few points she needed to clear up with the Illusive Man. A red light flashed, denying her entry. She tried again, and this time the hatch slid open.

Mordin nodded at her politely, stepped out of the comm room, and vanished around the corner.

* * *

><p>Shepard was examining the tank when Jorge found her.<p>

"What's that?"

"This," she said, gesturing with a bandaged left hand, "is what you missed on your leave. We really could have used your skills on that one. I hope you found what you were looking for?"

"Some of it," he allowed. "I'm sorry I wasn't here for your mission."

"Well, you can help out now. I'm opening the tank."

EDI complained, but Shepard insisted, and a few moments later there was an angry and disoriented krogan in the cargo bay.

"Human," the krogan growled, "before you die, I need a name."

Jorge pulled his sidearm and shot the krogan in the head. The bullet bounced off his skull plate, but it got his attention.

"Her name is Commander Shepard. She's your new boss. Any other questions?"

"Not her name - mine. Okeer implanted words, but he couldn't implant connections. 'Warlord,' 'legacy,' 'grunt.' Yes, Grunt will do."

The Spartan laughed.

"All right, 'Grunt,'" Shepard coughed.

Grunt turned again, to find Shepard's pistol aimed at the only sensitive part of his anatomy. He grinned and nodded. "Shepard. You are worthy. I will follow you - and when the time comes, I would be honored to pit my krannt against you."

"That's a good thing, Jorge, so don't shoot him again, if you don't mind."

"Yes, ma'am."


	9. Forerunner

**A/N:** I haven't (yet) read the Forerunner books. It probably shows.**  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>IX. Forerunner<strong>

Juliana drove out at dawn, not waking her daughter. Lizbeth would have to handle their project on her own today.

The human Councilor had contacted her personally with a request to find the source of a specific energy signature he said had been reported by science ships in the area. But Juliana Baynham _was_ science in this part of the galaxy; she'd have been notified if there was another science team in the system. No, Zhu's Hope was a dungheap of a colony, and after the death of the Thorian, only would - be treasure hunters ever showed up here anymore.

But that was all right. She knew there were no science ships in the area; she knew that this "energy signature" couldn't possibly exist; and she suspected the whole operation was a pretext to get her either to something, or away from something. Juliana had had experience with Council and Spectre meddling once before, and knew better than to ask questions; she was just glad to get away from Zhu's Hope for a few hours.

The monitor hooked to her sled's sensor board started beeping.

"That... can't be possible," she said to herself. But she followed the signal until it led her to the central tower of the ruined Prothean city. She glided into an ancient vehicle dock and dismounted, taking the energy monitor with her.

She'd never been this far into the ruins. ExoGeni hadn't allowed its employees to go on "sightseeing tours," before the Thorian was destroyed and the local outpost turned from psychological experimentation to medical relief.

The walls inside were covered with stylized hieroglyphs. Juliana fumbled out her camera and started filming the passage.

Tentacled monsters crawled along the monolithic walls, until they were met by a group of some sort of flying automata that burned them down. Further on, a giant ring circled what looked like a star, and later a hollow world was depicted, with a miniature sun burning at its center.

Juliana finally took a breath. Here was more Prothean history than anyone had ever previously discovered. She could imagine what her boss would say, though - it wasn't relevant to their work, therefore she would not be able to do any official follow-up.

The monitor was beeping faster now. She followed the signal further through the twisting passage.

A ship was being boarded by a variety of creatures, herded by tall, robed aliens. Juliana looked more closely at one of the figures - it was too small and worn to be sure, but it looked human.

That was ridiculous, though: there weren't any modern humans during the ages of the Prothean Empire. If those were humans, they would have to be australopithecines. Awfully modern looking humans, for being ancient hominids, though. But why would...

The ship again, this time emitting some sort of energy beam, the line of which led directly to a gap in the wall. A door. A small chamber.

She checked her locator. She was now directly in the center of the tower.

A soft glow filled the room. At its center, a crystal pyramid sat on a pedestal. Juliana hesitated, then reached for the artifact, the source of the impossible energy.

Glassy facets shimmered and moved, rearranging themselves until the pyramid became an obelisk. She held her breath, but nothing else happened, and she took the relic in her hands.

It hummed quietly, a sound like a melody she couldn't quite follow. She wrapped it in a soft handkerchief, then followed the hallway back out.

The giant ship waited beyond the door. Hundreds of tiny creatures, mysterious humanoids among them, walked off the boarding ramp. A world containing a small sun led to a ring, and the walls were once again assaulted by the unspeakable things the Protheans had been fleeing, chased away by the flying robots.

It was so clear now: The Protheans had been attacked by some kind of alien aberration; they hadn't gone extinct, they'd gone somewhere else. Maybe even to some other universe entirely!

This pyramid - obelisk, now - had played some part in their escape from this universe, she was sure of it.

Anderson would be delighted with her findings.

* * *

><p>A Salarian STG ship recorded the change in energy readings, and briefly decloaked before entering the Theseus system's mass relay.<p>

Councilors were never patient, but even this one would have to admit that this data was worth the wait.

* * *

><p>"It's incredible!" Liara said. "I would never have thought-but how did you find these?"<p>

"Would never betray my sources. Professional pride."

Liara's hologram turned the datapad over in her hands and smiled. It made Mordin uncomfortable. "I would never ask you to betray your pride, Dr. Solus. Hmm... It might be... fun to track down the source of these pictures."

"So glad I can provide you with weeks of quality entertainment, Dr. Tsoni."

"I don't know about weeks. Shall we take a wager?"

"Of course. Twenty thousand that it takes you five days."

"Thirty thousand, and it will take me forty-two hours."


	10. Citadel Council

**X. Citadel Council**

He was the biggest of them, so of course Commander Shepard had him carry the strange geth who had saved their lives.

Jorge grunted with the effort of holding the geth in one arm, while trying to keep his shots at least somewhat accurate with the thundering minigun on the other. He jumped into the shuttle first, dropped the battered geth, and laid down covering fire for the Commander and Krios.

The reptilian assassin had just gotten aboard when the Reaper ship - though somehow the Reaper _was_ the ship - began to shake and list. Its mass effect core had finally given out entirely, and the Commander was still running.

She jumped. She wasn't going to make it. The gravity effects from the defunct mass effect generator were sickening, but Jorge leaned out as far as he could, vertigo making him want to curl up into a ball instead.

The tips of her fingers touched his, and then he was holding on to her hand for dear life, and hauling her in, and she was next to him.

"Let's go," she ordered, but she left her arm entwined with his.

* * *

><p>Jacob hated it. That geth had become first in a long list of things waiting to go wrong - from working with aliens who had every reason to hate Cerberus, to whatever Miranda and the Illusive Man were planning regarding the big man.<p>

The Spartan was on that list, too. A man from another universe - how the hell could you trust someone like that? He had no reason to fall in line behind the Commander, but he did anyway. They got his help way too easily; in Jacob's experience, when the world gave you what you wanted, there was bound to be a catch.

The worst part of the Spartan situation was that Jacob really liked the big guy. He was military, born and bred, and he understood discipline, obedience, doing whatever it took to finish the job. He seemed loyal to the Commander - hell, everyone (except maybe Shepard) could tell he'd gone a little soft on her... but there was always a _but_.

Jacob wondered what he would do, if he found himself stuck in another universe. He knew one thing - he wouldn't just settle in like everything was hunky-dory. The Spartan was planning something. Jacob would be, if it was him.

The hatch slid open behind him.

"It hasn't risen from the dead and tried to eat you, has it?"

"You never know, Commander. It might only be pretending to be knocked out."

Shepard squeezed his shoulder as she walked over to the control pad in the of isolation cell. "I don't think geth have that much imagination."

"I can't believe you're just going to wake that thing up."

She glanced at the pistol on his hip. "You're armed, aren't you?"

"Always."

The isolation field disappeared. The thing twitched, its single eye winking on. It gave a series of clicks, sending additional chills up Jacob's spine, and then it sat up.

* * *

><p>Anderson's office was large and comfortable, but with most of Shepard's team gathered for the meeting, it seemed cramped. Anderson himself was the only Councilor physically present, but that didn't matter. Anyone would have felt uneasy under the holographic gaze of the three high Councilors.<p>

"We humored your stories about living starships that want to kill us all, but now you want us to believe this wild tale about a man from an alternate universe?" the turian Councilor scoffed. "I begin to wonder if Saren was the only Spectre to have broken under the strain."

Shepard knew this had been a bad idea. First there had been the IFF tags, and EDI had insisted the ship couldn't be moved while the installation took place. Their only firepower in spitting distance was their Kodiak shuttle, where Legion and Jack waited.

And now- this was about what she had expected from the Council. There was Anderson, yes, but he remained the only Councilor who still trusted her judgment. She hoped he trusted her judgment; their last meeting hadn't gone the way she'd intended.

"Dr. Solus," Anderson put in, "I'd like to hear your thoughts on all this. Do you believe Shepard's sanity has been compromised?"

"Ah, yes, the equally mad - biologist? Spy? War criminal? Your friends have so much to recommend them, Commander," the turian sneered.

Finally one of the other Councilors spoke. "Wait," the salarian insisted. "Mordin Solus is a trusted agent of my people's government. His testimony could be enlightening."

Mordin pulled up his omnitool data, showing it on a fourth hologram projector. "This is the readout from the Normandy's sensors at the time of the event." He toggled his omnitool again, and a new graph appeared. "And this is the energy signature from a crystal discovered in a Prothean ruin on Feros."

"They're identical," the turian complained.

"A stunning grasp of the obvious, sir. Now this," he went on as the image changed again, "is a series of pictures taken at the site where the crystal was discovered."

The carved images shifted and progressed, drawing uneasy mutterings from everyone.

"What is this supposed to prove?"

"The Protheans were not originally from this universe."

Their Spartan had not moved in the past few minutes. Now Shepard watched him remove his helmet, his expression guarded, as the images played through again.

"And is this your opinion alone?" the salarian Councilor asked. From the looks the other two Councilors were giving both him and Anderson, Shepard guessed that this was a coordinated - and well hidden - plan.

Mordin gestured again, and the hologram projector showed the image of Liara Tsoni. She smiled wickedly at Mordin, who gave a shrug. Beside Shepard, Samara stirred and said something under her breath.

"Based on Mordin's readings, and my own extensive research of Prothean history and artifacts, I concur. This crystal pyramid, while dissimilar to previously discovered Prothean technology, is still of obvious Prothean manufacture. I would also speculate that it may have had religious significance, since what records we've discovered were stored within pyramidal monuments."

The asari Councilor shook her head. "You are asking us to believe the word of a child, Doctor."

Samara stepped forward. "Say what you mean, Councilor. We are asking you to believe the word of a _pureblood_."

The asari's skin flushed a deeper indigo, but she said nothing.

Liara's image stared, stricken. The justicar moved next to her an smiled gently. "I am so sorry that we have never met. Child of my heart, do not judge your mother too harshly. She was an extraordinary woman, before shame drove her to Saren."

The hologram disappeared. Samara bowed her head a moment, then faced the Councilors again. "You will not accept the word of a 'child.' Perhaps you will accept that of a justicar. I vouch for the accuracy of the information presented here."

The asari Councilor hesitated, then nodded. The salarian did likewise, giving Mordin a smile.

Finally, scowling, the turian gave in. "Very well. Your 'Spartan' is a man from another dimension, and you can hop back and forth with a wish and a charm. What good will that do us? If those images are accurate, and those things are waiting on the other side..."

"With respect, sir, if they ever existed, they don't anymore," Jorge said. "Our galaxy is well explored as your own, and - "

"A moment, please," Mordin interrupted. Jorge looked at him and shrugged. "The Protheans did flee from another universe and arrive in our own. Never left again - found it impossible. They fled from one terror to another, and eventually perished."

Jorge's face went abruptly blank, but Shepard had learned to read him, and now she saw agony in every line of his armored stance.

"If the Protheans had the technology to hop from one universe to another, then why didn't they go back?" the asari Councilor asked.

"The physics of this reality prevented it. One-way trip. Biologically fascinating! They - and you, Jorge - survived... given what we know of other transfers. Culturally - a disaster, once the Reapers came."

Jorge replaced his helmet.

"I am sorry, Jorge," Mordin finished sadly.

The Councilors stood silently for a moment, clearly uncomfortable. Then the turian cleared his throat. "Again, what does this gain us?"

Mordin's changeable temper turned again as he smiled suddenly. "Bait."

"Let us be clear, Dr. Solus," the asari said. "The Council cannot in any way give aid or assistance to a mission based on the... best guesses of a group like Cerberus - not even with the support of a justicar."

"We _appreciate_ being apprised of your actions, of course," the turian purred. "But why come to us with this information at all?"

"I insisted, sir," Jorge admitted. Shepard wondered if he still thought it was a good idea.

"How noble of you."

"If that is all, then?" the asari said, obviously eager to end the meeting.

"Not quite all," Anderson said. "There is one more pertinent bit of information."

Mordin rubbed his hands together nervously. "Yes. Have been working with Miranda and Dr. Chakwas on a procedure to replicate the results of the Spartan program."

"Mordin!" Jorge and Miranda snapped at the same time. They stared at each other in confusion, then looked at Mordin again.

"My apologies," he said, unapologetically. "Too important for ego or loyalty. Have learned much from the human genome - so much variation, for one small species! Applications possible for many other races. Exact replication impossible, should find technological equivalencies... Threats! Krogans - geth - Reapers - too many threats to discount. Need Spartans. Need hope!"

"No, absolutely not!" the turian shouted. "Turning people into - that giant armored _thing_, into robots to fight your wars for you! It cannot be allowed!"

"Isn't that what the geth did to your people?" the asari pointed out. "Made them into mindless husks to serve their ends?"

"With respect," Miranda said, stepping up next to Shepard, "Cerberus has already been successful once. Commander Shepard is no mindless husk. She is very vocal - and sometimes physical - about her disagreements with Cerberus. But she gets the job done. No husk could measure up."

Shepard remembered killing a group of the creatures inside a Cerberus facility, years ago in her previous life. She wondered if Miranda had been personally involved in that experiment.

"No one who's gotten to know our giant could ever confuse him with a mindless husk!" Everyone turned to look at Tali, who almost disappeared next to Jorge.

"With what we've learned with the assistance of my colleague - " Miranda glared at Mordin - "we will be able to successfully replicate equivalent procedures, turning volunteers into a much stronger and more efficient fighting force than exists anywhere else in the galaxy."

The turian's mandibles flared as he showed his teeth. "So we finally see Cerberus' real plan. We should have wiped your kind out when we first met you." His holographic presence vanished.

"This is a grave miscalculation from Cerberus - and from humanity, Councilor Anderson. The rest of the galaxy will not sit by while your people build up a super army."

"Then don't sit by," Anderson replied. "Send volunteers. Or build up your own forces, as I'm sure Palaven will be doing. At least that way you'll be in better shape when the Reapers get here."

She stared at Anderson, shook her head, and cut her own connection. Shepard's team started yelling, asking Anderson to explain what the Council was doing, arguing with Miranda, wondering aloud if Mordin knew what he was doing.

Finally, they noticed that one Councilor had remained. "Do you trust Cerberus, Commander Shepard? Do you agree with their goals?"

"No," she answered honestly. "But I'm not doing this for them."

The salarian smiled. "How can my people help?"


	11. Slipspace

**XI. Slipspace**

They found Joker slumped in the cockpit. Shepard and her team had left the Normandy in a small, uninhabited system in shuttle range of the Citadel, while the IFF code uploaded. Now she listed alarmingly on an unstable orbit around one of the outer dwarf planets.

"Someone find Dr. Chakwas!" Shepard said in desperation, but she knew the Normandy was horribly empty. Even when they had found pools of blood where crew members must have died - nothing remained but drag smears and oddly shaped, bloody footprints.

"Shit. Okay. Mordin, help him. I need him talking, at least. I need to know what happened."

"The Normandy was attacked by the Collectors," EDI's voice said as her display lit up. "They took the entire crew. There was a locator virus hidden in the IFF beacon."

"Why didn't you do something!" Shepard screamed.

"Mr. Moreau unlocked my subroutines. I took control of the ship, but it was too late. There was too much damage, and I could not help Jeff."

"You - he - "

"He saved the Normandy, Commander," EDI said softly. "I regret that we could not save the crew."

* * *

><p>Joker woke up slowly. <em>Two hundred and six bones in the human body<em>, he thought muzzily - he knew that number by heart. He wondered how many he had now.

"Dr. Chakwas?" he said, his voice cracking. _God, I sound like a kicked puppy._

"She's not here," a deep voice replied, and Joker remembered everything.

"Where's Shepard? Is she safe? Is everyone else safe?" He struggled to sit up, but his body wouldn't respond.

"Everyone who went to the Citadel made it back," Jorge responded gently. "Shepard is fine."

"Where is everyone? I need to see her. Help me up!"

"Easy does it." Jorge eased one hand under Joker's back, lifting him up like a baby. "Mordin's got you pumped full of medigel - he said you'll be dizzy for a bit."

"Mordin doesn't know jack shit about - whoah, that actually feels okay. Nothing hurts." Joker stood and took a tentative step.

"He also gave you some pretty strong painkillers, so don't run around too much yet."

"First time in years that nothing hurts. Figures."

"Mordin said - "

"Don't - just _shut up_ about Mordin, okay?"

The Spartan fell silent as he helped Joker to the head.

"Sorry," he said when he was finished. Jorge nodded. "What they did to you, when they made you a Spartan..." He trailed off, too doped up to figure out what he was going to say.

Jorge seemed to know what he wanted to ask, though. "It hurt a lot. I was only fourteen, and one of my friends died from it."

"Sorry," Joker whispered again.

"Don't be."

But he wanted to tell everyone how sorry he was - that people had died because of him, that he couldn't save the rest of the crew. There wasn't enough _sorry_ in the world. There never would be.

He was starting to feel it now. The fractures would never heal completely. He could bruise if he even hugged anyone. But he visited everyone in turn, Jorge supporting him with every step.

Miranda looked at him as if he was a speck under a microscope. Tali was sniffling under her mask. Garrus and Grunt were easier - they started talking about plans to take the fight to the Collectors, finally.

The Commander was the hardest to deal with. She tried to tell him that it wasn't his fault.

When it was over, Jorge picked him up and carried him back to the medical bay. Joker was too tired and sick to complain. After reattaching Joker's IV patch, the Spartan dimmed the lights and quietly settled into a nearby chair for the night.

"Thanks, Mom."

Jorge chuckled. "You're welcome."

* * *

><p>Joker was back in the cockpit. He and EDI were working together seamlessly now, like old friends. The repairs were progressing - mostly fixing computer systems that the IFF virus had shredded, but Shepard had gone out personally on an EVA with a wrench.<p>

It was just - so empty. No chattering, flirtatious Chambers, no Ken and Gabby trying to act like they weren't an item (and fooling no one).

Without Gardner, they were down to basic rations in the mess. She found Jorge spooning down slop while studying a datapad. After serving herself, she sat down across from him.

"They don't look like what our scientists think the Forerunners looked like," he said, gesturing at the diagram of a Collector his datapad showed.

"I bet Mordin has an explanation for that," she said. "God, this stuff is disgusting."

"Talked to him already. He said they started changing, after they came here. Something about their original cellular makeup, chemistry, whatever, not working right in this universe."

"So - they evolved, or maybe they engineered themselves. It makes sense: some of the Prothean statues I've seen look nothing like the Collectors."

Jorge grunted and swallowed another spoonful of glop.

"Hey - you're not going to change, Jorge. Those pictures that showed the species they brought with them? The only recognizable ones are the humans. I guess we didn't have to adapt too much to this universe. And even if you woke up as a bug-eyed monster tomorrow, we'd still love you."

There was an awkward silence. Shepard's spoon clanked against her bowl as she scooped up another hurried bite. "Seriously, how can you eat this crap? You look like it's the best thing you've ever tasted."

"Had worse." He took another bite. "You're wrong, though."

"How so?"

"Chakwas said to expect changes with my implants. It's already started."

"What? Are you all right?" She put her hand on his, but he flinched away. "What's going on?"

The Spartan actually blushed.

Shepard had read the report from Mordin. It had talked about implants that heightened some of the normal physical responses, like combat reflexes, or dulled others, like shock reactions - and sex drive.

A thousand snappy answers flooded her mind - _Have you asked Garrus about how turians blow off steam?_ - but she shoved them all away. She shifted uncomfortably, and her leg accidentally brushed his; he stood up to go.

"Sorry, Commander. Tali wanted my help in engineering - "

"Jorge." He stopped. "Relax. No one on this ship is offended by the changes I think you're talking about."

"I - "

"You're an attractive man. A good man. Whoever you've got your eye on is very lucky." _If you break his heart, Miranda, you bitch - _

She didn't get to finish the thought. Jorge sat back down again, studying her. How could she have ever thought his eyes were unreadable?

He took her hand, and their fingers laced together perfectly.

* * *

><p>Floating out in the black, Jorge thought things over as he worked. En route to the Omega relay, they had met up with an STG prowler which had transferred the ForerunnerProthean crystal to the Normandy. Now he was installing the crystal in the repaired remains of a slipspace drive. Cerberus had been busy with the half of the Covenant supercarrier that had brought Jorge here.

He couldn't go home again.

Miranda had theorized that the supercarrier's slipspace drive had been warming up or on standby when Jorge had triggered the Shaw-Fujikawa core - or that the energies of the bomb itself had somehow triggered the Covenant drive. Either way, the strange harmonics of overlapping fields had produced the exact energy frequency needed to make the transfer here.

Every Covenant alien on board alive at the time of the transfer died when they hit this reality. From what he'd seen of the Cerberus recordings, it hadn't been pretty.

Jorge had survived, though. He decided that was a good thing.

He bolted down another arm of the casing. He still didn't understand why human - biology, chemistry, whatever - adapted so smoothly, while the Forerunners had rapidly changed, and the Covenant races had simply died. Everyone he asked about it had shrugged and said it was just one of those things.

The slipspace drive wouldn't work the same anymore, of course, but it would provide a hell of a boost to the energy signature of the crystal. If the Collectors had anything left of their ancient selves at all - ancestral memories, maybe - they would come running. That was the theory, anyway.

Most high technology from Jorge's home universe was useless here. Mordin had given Jorge his final diagnosis: he would keep his strength, his night vision, and he would probably never have to worry about a broken bone; but the implants had failed, and would have to come out. The chemicals they secreted to prevent his systems from reverting to human normal were now slowly poisoning him.

Adjusting the magnetic coil, Jorge thought about Leigh-133, who had been his shadow, his other half, all through their training. They'd been holding hands just before their beds had been wheeled into different areas of the hospital bay. Even that small display had been against the rules, but when Lieutenant Keyes had spoken to him just before the procedure started, he hadn't mentioned it.

His feelings for Six had been there, but - muted. Maybe if they'd been normal...

He closed the drive casing. They had been normal. They were normal Spartans, and messy relationships played no part in their lives or their missions. People died because of that sort of thing.

Spartans never died, though. They were only ever listed as MIA or WIA. Jorge wondered who had changed his status. Carter, probably. By now Noble Team would have been reassigned to another world, another mission; they would have a new Noble Five, just like Six had replaced Thom. Kat and Emile would be pissed about it. He hoped Six would be okay.

He stowed his tools and triggered a short burn on his thruster pack that would take him back to the Normandy airlock. Commander Shepard - Jane - would need to know that everything was ready.


	12. Reclaimer

**XII. Reclaimer**

EDI sent out the signal that triggered the Covenant drive core. Almost immediately, the huge Collector ship appeared - but the _Normandy_ was hiding in the energy shadow of the relay; the Collectors either didn't notice them, or found their bait more interesting.

They hit the Omega relay, and flew into hell.

Jorge had always hated putting his life into someone else's hands - someone other than a fellow Spartan - sitting uselessly, his weapons and armor and massive strength on standby like an AI waiting for input. It was why most Spartans preferred to travel in cryo, right up to the moments before battle if they could.

He strapped himself into one of the sensor positions to try and make himself useful, but he had trained on UNSC boards, and these sensor readouts were too confusing. If this were a UNSC board, they would be in the process of flying into some sort of metallic asteroid field.

EDI tried to warn Joker about the obstacles. "I know, I know!" the pilot yelled back. "Better hang on to something, Commander."

Jorge tried to call out the sensor readings, but his throat had closed up. Something was badly wrong with him; it felt like he had swallowed a lead pill that must have gotten stuck on the way down. His heart was beating erratically, he was shivering, and the sweat had started again. His implants must be failing badly, the altered chemicals playing havoc with his body.

Something sliced along the _Normandy_'s hull with a terrible screech. He closed his eyes and thought about Reach.

An indefinite time later, the rumbling and shaking stopped. Shepard was snapping out instructions as team members hopped out of the airlock. "Jorge, you're with me," she said, and he fell in line.

The geth had scouted ahead into the ventilation tunnels. Everyone else gathered around the Commander as she outlined their jobs.

The _Normandy_, snug against one of the base's countless docking platforms, had survived the asteroid field with only some mild scoring along her flanks.

As they split into two teams, an enormous shadow passed over them.

"Heads up," Shepard said. "Looks like we didn't distract them for long." But the Collector ship ignored them, instead sliding easily into a gap along the station's northern axis.

Inside, the base was eerily empty and quiet. Jorge kept expecting to run into squads of the insectoid aliens, but their way was clear. Triggering a series of valves, Shepard kept Legion's ventway open. Soon, everyone was reunited again.

"This is just strange," Miranda said, voicing everyone's discomfort. "We should have had to fight our way through, or - something. Everything's empty."

"I don't like it either, cheerleader, but I'm not going to go pointing out to the bad guys that they really should be murdering us right now."

"We stick to the plan," Shepard said. "Find our people, destroy the base, get out if we can. Miranda, you're on rescue. See if EDI can home in on crew lifesigns or signals. If and when you find them, get them out no matter what. If things start going to hell and we're not back yet, leave without us.

"Jorge, Garrus, you're with me. Everyone else, go with Miranda."

The team divided again, some shaking hands with Shepard's group, most splitting into pairs to cover each other more effectively as they hunted. Soon Shepard, Garrus, and Jorge were the only ones left.

The route that EDI had marked in their HUD maps was hot, humid, and foul smelling. They passed egg clusters, most of which had died, and empty pods that might have once held their captured crewmates. Occasionally they found one or two husk creatures wandering aimlessly; the things didn't fight back when they shot them.

"Shepard," Miranda's voice crackled over their comm lines. "We've found the crew. It's... bad. Most of them are already gone, but Chakwas and a few others are safe. Escorting them back out now."

"Thank you, Miranda. And good work."

"Don't thank me yet. We found where all the Collectors have gathered, and placed a beacon for you. They're building something, Commander - a new Reaper - and they're using human genetic material to do it. It's why all the colonists... Oh, God, just get there. Kill it."

"Miranda, are you - "

"Heading back to the Normandy with the others. We can't leave the crew to that - just promise me, Shepard: if you find any more, and you can't get them out, it's better to kill them."

A small light now blinked on Jorge's faceplate, pointing the way to go. Shepard looked at him with worry in her eyes, then said, "Move out."

A few minutes later, they found it.

"_Reclaimer_."

The voice came from nowhere and everywhere, a single word from a thousand throats, and none.

The Reaper was massive, a grotesque metal-and-flesh mockery of a human skeleton, its eyes, mouth, and chest blazing white.

"I, uh, think I left my fission bomb back in my locker," Garrus said, his mandibles fluttering. "Happy to go back and get it."

"Jane. Look at its chest."

Shepard followed where Jorge pointed. There was a gap in its ribcage where coils and wires had been hastily added, connecting their salvaged slipspace engine to the enormous creature. Crackling energy poured from it, making the awful thing shudder as if in ecstasy.

Floating eerily in the gap that was its mouth, the Forerunner crystal changed into an obelisk, a many-petaled flower, a pyramid, a diamond, constantly shifting. The light it shed rippled like heat waves, like a veil about to be torn.

"_Reclaimer_."

All around them, Collector drones huddled into tunnels and crevasses, eyes fixed on the Reaper - on the crystal - their mouthparts vibrating again to produce that single, awful voice.

"_Reclaimer_."

The drive core jolted the unfinished Reaper again, another wash of light rippling out of the crystal, and for a moment they were surrounded by a far off, distorted mountain range.

Garrus clutched his stomach and heaved up his supper. "Is that thing doing - what I think it's doing?" he gasped.

"Get back, Garrus, you can't do anything here. Set up out of range of that thing's effect, watch for trouble."

"Sorry, Commander," the turian moaned, limping away.

"We should never have let them have that goddamn crystal. Should have realized the Collectors would be able to use it somehow." Shepard shook her head helplessly. "I don't know how to kill it."

The wavering light again, the flash of black grass and red sky and that heartrending, broken ridge.

"Where is it trying to transfer to?"

The Highland Mountains, though framed all around with fire and glass, were still breathtaking in their distant purple beauty.

He could simply wait for another transfer flash. Wait, and run, and hope he was in time to save everything that had ever mattered to him.

"Blow the drive core," Jorge finally answered.

Another flash, another semi-transference.

"Jorge - where is that thing trying to transfer to?"

"Doesn't matter. Let's just kill this thing and go..."

"Home?" Shepard said. "That's your universe, Jorge - that's your world - isn't it?"

The cavern reappeared around them, full of Collectors buzzing and swarming. Garrus' sniper rifle cracked over and over again, and all around them dead Collectors fell.

"Someone's having a good time," Jorge remarked, then took off his helmet. The flashes were coming faster now, and he would have to do this quick. "I can get to the drive core, if you and Garrus can keep everything off me."

"No - just shoot it till it blows! I'm not letting you - "

"Jane. The Covenant build their tech too well for a few rounds to make a difference."

The Highland range appeared again, melted away. Collectors shrieked and died. The Reaper struggled, howling, against the slipspace energy that twisted its arms and spine.

"The Collectors - the Reapers - they can't be allowed to destroy two universes. I have to make sure it blows. Your job is to kill that thing, if it's still kicking afterwards. And get the crew home safe."

She stared at him, her faceplate fogged with sweat and tears. He drew a Spartan smile on it, then gave her a real one. Then he turned away, putting his helmet on again, and started towards the Reaper.

It hung from a set of nutrient tubes, the immense injectors now blackened and inert. Below it was a long drop. Even without his armor, Jorge would weigh far too much to make it that far.

He hovered at the edge of the precipice, Garrus and Shepard's shots peppering any Collectors that got too close, and waited.

The sky was on fire. The mountains had jagged tears blasted out. Reach had fallen. Jorge hurled himself onto the Reaper's shuddering spine, and hung on as his world faded again in an agony of light. His hands shook, his whole body shuddered, but he kept climbing, climbing, until he finally reached the thing inside the chest cavity.

As if the drive core sensed his intentions, it throbbed again. Were his mountains closer now? Jorge wondered what had happened to Noble Team. He wondered if they would be waiting for him.

Reach disappeared, and his fists hammered into the light.


	13. Spartan

**XIII. Spartan**

Joker limped into the hospital admitting center with Dr. Chakwas on one side and Miranda on the other.

"I thought we were going to do this on the Normandy," he complained.

"As your physician - and your friend," Dr. Chakwas said, "I'm overruling you. Besides, we've already lost so many good people..."

"Yeah. Okay. I'm with you."

The room was crowded with humans, asari, even a salarian hopeful. A single turian waited in a corner, reading an old magazine.

"Garrus, what are you doing here?"

Garrus smiled and said, "I'm here to keep an eye on you. Everyone else is on duty elsewhere - well, we're not really sure where Jack went - but they've all sent their best wishes, and they want hourly updates."

"Shit, you make it sound like I'm about to have a baby."

They stood chatting a while, until Miranda's omnitool chimed. "It's time."

"Right. Uh, hey, Garrus, if something happens - "

"Nothing's going to happen," the other three said at once.

"Yeah, but just in case - Garrus, you gotta delete my porn files. If EDI finds them..."

"Only if I can keep a copy," Garrus laughed.

"Yeah, man, go crazy. You like asari, right?"

"Garrus, don't answer that," Miranda snapped. "And that was way more information I ever wanted about you, Joker!"

"You mean it wasn't already in that secret dossier you have on me?"

"Jeff," Dr. Chakwas said softly. "It's time."

Joker swallowed the panic down and nodded. "Yeah. Let's do this."

A smiling nurse checked them in and led them to the room. In one corner stood a titanium rack supporting something that looked like a mech wearing a medieval suit of plate armor, painted in the _Normandy_'s colors.

"Is this it?" Joker asked. "Is it mine?"

"It will be soon," Dr. Chakwas said.

"Tali does good work, doesn't she?" added Miranda.

"Wow. Yeah."

"Please change into the hospital gown," the nurse chirped. "Dr. Solus will be with you shortly."

"Uh, Miranda? Not to sound harsh, but get the hell out. There's some things I don't want in your secret files."

"Of course. Good luck."

* * *

><p>Miranda stepped outside and shut the door. Joker would not be the first patient to undergo this procedure since Cerberus had gone public with the program only a week ago. And if the success rate continued to rise, they would begin to see more and more volunteers. She couldn't believe how many people - how many aliens, too - had shown up to undergo such a risky, experimental procedure.<p>

They'd lost only one patient so far - but it had only been a turian - and every one was either back on their feet or recovering fast. The augmentations sped the healing process up remarkably, and the implants were stable and working well. Training would begin within the month.

Jorge's notes on the process and Mordin's alterations had made all the difference in Cerberus' plans. There would be no need to use children this time, especially with the Alliance breathing down their necks; and with all the new Spartans being volunteers, that cut down on the possibility of lawsuits, while providing Cerberus a welcome public relations boost.

S-214 A... S-214 B... S-215-here it was. Miranda knocked softly. Councilor Anderson opened the door.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize - "

He frowned down at her. "No need to apologize, Ms. Lawson. I was just leaving. Jane, call me if there's any change."

He brushed past her and was gone.

"How is he?"

"He hasn't woken up yet," Shepard said. "Mordin said it would happen some time today."

His feet hung off the bed, but some thoughtful nurse had wheeled in a small table with a pillow on it to make him more comfortable when he did wake.

"Has the Illusive Man made any statements yet?" Shepard asked.

There were new incision marks over the terrible energy burn scars, but the skin was healing remarkably. It was a miracle that the Spartan hadn't died - but Spartans were tough, and Miranda thought they would be seeing a lot of miracles soon.

"I'm not sure. I'm not in his favor anymore, and I haven't had time to keep up with the news."

Shepard and the turian had gotten Jorge out as the Collector base disintegrated around them, first dragging, then carrying the giant almost-corpse with them as the gravity died. The Reaper's explosion had thrown the Spartan well clear of the bottomless drop; but the armor that had saved his life was now burnt out and useless. Shepard had kept the helmet though - it lay, cracked and blackened, on the table next to the bed.

Mordin and Chakwas had repaired the organ and tissue damage, at the same time replacing the old implants with the new ones the two had designed together. There were some changes, of course, but Spartan Jorge-052 would feel perfectly normal again soon.

"Any word from the Citadel?"

"Anderson was just in here, didn't he - "

Smiling bitterly, Shepard shook her head. "They removed Anderson from the Council and replaced him with that jackass Udina."

"Well. I can't say I'm surprised."

"Or unhappy?"

"I won't argue about this again, Commander."

Shepard sighed and looked down at Jorge, brushing a stray hair off his forehead. The old scar above his eye had been joined by welts crisscrossing everywhere, but Shepard didn't seem to care. "You're right. I'm sorry."

"Let me know when he wakes," Miranda said. "I'll be in touch."

* * *

><p>He was dead for a long time.<p>

Floating somewhere warm and dark, Jorge decided that death was nice enough, though rather boring. He could hear voices a long way away, though what they were saying escaped him.

Eventually he noticed that it wasn't entirely dark anymore. He was on Reach, and it was night. The colors had faded from everything, except for a small group of people sitting around a table. It was their voices he must have been hearing.

Noble Team had just eaten what looked like a celebratory feast. Tiny flames flickered above and around everything, though there were no candles; after a moment, he realized that they were stars. His friends were talking, laughing together; even Six and Emile seemed to be on good terms. Thom was there, too, his long runner's legs stretched out under the table.

He could almost understand the words now, and he thought they said his name. Kat stood up, raising a glass of what could have been liquid starlight.

"To Jorge," she said. "May he find what he's looking for."

"To Jorge!" everyone else agreed.

Reach vanished, except for the flickering candle stars. He floated there in the dark, watching them, wondering at their beauty. After a while, Lieutenant Keyes appeared, though now he wore the uniform of a Captain.

"Go ahead, son," he whispered, and reached out a hand.

Pain danced all around him - the pain of having a physical body, the sweet pain of muscles that twitched and moved, of breath that gusted in and out, of a heart still beating despite everything.

There was a bed beneath him and sheets lying over his body.

When he opened his eyes, Jane was smiling at him.

_End._


End file.
